Learning to Live
by Lulla-Belle-888
Summary: Ginny Weasley must learn to live without Harry Potter, who lies in a coma in St. Mungo’s Hospital after the Final Battle with Lord Voldemort. These are her letters to him as she faces her future, and comes to terms with the fact that he may never wake u
1. Prologue

Prologue  
  
_Ginny,  
  
I'm bad at writing letters. I'll just apologize right off for this one, because it's guaranteed to be horrible. That said, I'll get right down to the point. We're at the end, Ginny...at least I think we are. From what Ron, Hermione, and I have been hearing, albeit a little illegally, something big is going to happen soon. In fact, if you're reading this, it's all ready happened, and Voldemort has mostly likely succeeded in finally killing me.   
  
I'm not exactly sure why I'm writing this, it might just makes things worse for you. But I couldn't leave you with nothing. You've been amazing these past few years, and I've never even told you. I've never even let on once...I'm a complete git, Gin, for not being with you while we had time, and I know that, and I can't even explain why I always stopped myself. All I can really say now is I'm sorry.  
  
I need you to promise, me, though, Ginny, that you'll move on, and that you'll be all right. I'm not worried about Ron and Hermione, or anyone else...they have each other. You're different, though, and I know it. When I die, I need to know that you're going to be okay. I need to know you're not just going to survive. I need to know you're going to _**live**_, Gin.   
  
Love always,  
  
Harry  
_  
Sixteen year old Ginny Weasley sat immobile at Harry Potter's bedside, clutching the letter in her hand. _His_ letter to her, saying things she had wanted to hear from him for years. Somehow, now that she'd heard them, she didn't feel any better. Ginny sighed and covered her face with her hands, wanting to cry and get rid of the horrible, hollow feeling of utter emptiness inside of her, but she couldn't. She figured she'd cried enough in the past week to last a lifetime, anyway, and simply didn't have any tears left. Finally, she raised her head and gazed at Harry's still form, barely seeing the steady rise and fall of his chest as he breathed.  
  
Ginny swallowed around the lump in her throat and glanced back down at the words on the page that Hermione had delivered to her just minutes before. She said Harry had given it to her the day before the final battle with Voldemort and his army, which had taken place at Hogwarts, instructing her to give it to Ginny in case something happened to him. Something definitely had. _In fact, if you're reading this, it's all ready happened, and Voldemort has most likely succeeded in killing me._ She shook her head slightly, wondering if Harry would actually be better off dead, rather than in this state of limbo, somewhere in between life and death...somewhere no one could reach him. Hermione said it was what Muggles called a coma, something some people woke up from in a week, some years, and others never. Ginny wouldn't let herself think of the last possibility.  
  
No one was quite sure why Harry was in a coma. Of course, they knew it was from finally, once and for all, defeating Voldemort. However, no one had anticipated what vanquishing the Dark Lord would do to Harry, physically or mentally. No one had been able to predict if he would live or die...and no on had anticipated this, either.  
  
Ginny read the letter again, beginning to feel agitated and trapped. She didn't know what Harry meant when he told her to _live._ What could life possibly consist of now that she was missing a brother, countless classmates and friends, and _Harry?_ She was being cheated out of her seventh and final year of school, due to the fact that Hogwarts was destroyed in the Final Battle, as it was now being called, and had no idea where to even begin to rebuild herself. Harry was right when he said Ron and Hermione would be fine because they had each other. They did, and she, Ginny, had no one.  
  
"So how am I supposed to just live, Harry?", Ginny whispered, starting to finally feel the sharp sting of tears in her eyes, "what am I supposed to do?" Ginny quietly stood up, leaning down to smooth Harry's messy black hair from the lightening shaped scar on his forehead, a reminder of the first time he defeated Voldemort.. She leaned down and softly kissed it, trying to talk herself into a brave state of mind, wanting him to be at peace wherever he was. She didn't know if he could hear her, or if he was simply gone, just a body with no soul. She only knew he was far too young to have faced what he'd faced in his life, and she loved him far too much not to honor his wishes, no matter what they were of her. "Okay," she said out loud to the only boy she'd ever really and truly loved, "you want me to live...I'll try." 


	2. Letter 1

Letter #1  
  
_September 6, 1998  
_  
Harry,  
  
I don't know what I'm thinking. Honestly, I must be crazy. I'm not of legal age, I don't have enough money, and I don't even have an Apparition license, and yet here I am setting off for some remote area of Ireland, just because _you_ told me to _live_. Well, I shouldn't be surprised, I suppose...I have sort of always done anything you ask me to since I was eleven years old and extremely infatuated. Now I'm sixteen, going on seventeen, and I wouldn't really call it infatuated...I'm just in love.   
  
I hope you won't think I'm a horrible person for leaving you to go off on some crazy expedition, but...you did tell me to live. And I _didn't_ leave your side for three solid months, Harry. I barely even saw sunlight. I guess I'll just have to deal with that when you wake up, though. And yes, I said _when_, because you will wake up someday. In fact, I insist upon it, because if you don't, then you'll never know what I'm doing...  
  
I guess I should explain how all of this came about. You started it of course, with your letter (which I carry with me wherever I go, by the way), and I suppose I just started thinking during all of those hours keeping vigil at your side. Sitting there watching over you and waiting...that's exactly what you said you didn't want me to do. However, I couldn't imagine just turning around, walking out of St. Mungo's, and carrying on the way things were before. It would have been impossible for me to do that.  
  
I knew if I was to "live" like you wanted me to, I would have to do something drastic. I didn't really tell anyone until I had things planned out, because I knew they would try and talk me out of it. They did try, eventually, but by that time, my mind was made up. (And you know how stubborn I can be, of course...all of us are that way.) I'd always wanted to leave England anyway...I just never imagined it would be because of something like this. I don't have a particular motive in mind, I didn't really plan exactly where I'm going...I'm just _going_.  
  
So, here I am on an airplane (yes, a _Muggle_ airplane) bound for Ireland. It's not that far from England, but at this point, it's really the only place I could afford to fly to. Once I'm there, maybe I'll try to find a job and make enough money to get to another obscure destination. I'll land at a small airport in Shannon, so I'm told, and from there I'll have to make my way to the Cliffs of Moher, in Clare County, on the Western side of Ireland.  
  
I contacted Dean Thomas before I left to find out where Seamus Finnigan lives. He told me where to find the village, which is something like Hogsmeade from what I understand, strictly a wizarding village, so that's where I'm headed. Since Seamus and Lavender (they were recently married, by the way) are the only people I know in the whole of Ireland, I figure it's probably worthwhile to seek them out. Their village is called Ashlean, and it's not far from the Cliffs of Moher. I'll write to you again once I actually have news.  
  
I love you, Harry, and I'm waiting for you.  
  
Love,  
  
Ginny 


	3. Letter 2

Letter #2  
  
_September 8, 1998_  
  
Harry,  
  
I think I love Ireland. I have never met nicer, more loving people. Of course, the fact that I'm a Weasley and every wizard and witch in the world knows who we are now probably has something to do with it, but...nevertheless, I'm glad I decided to come here first. You have no idea how many people are sending prayers, thanks, and wishes your way, Harry. You would _hate_ the attention if you were awake, but as it is...it's actually rather comforting to me to know that there are so many people in the world hoping you're going to get better.   
  
I'm staying with Seamus and Lavender for a while, and Seamus is trying to get me a job in the pub down the street. Apparently he knows the owner. Until that's for certain, I'm just helping Lavender around the house (she's really not much of a housewife in the way of cleaning and cooking, I hate to say). My journey here was rather long, but worth it. Landing at the airport in Shannon was hell, I had no idea what to do...  
  
When I walked out of the airport, I was completely lost, and starting to wonder if this wasn't such a good idea after all, so I just sort of...well, _sat_ on my luggage for an hour or so, thinking. Quite suddenly, a very enthusiastic little girl with bright blonde hair and blue eyes, who looks something like a miniature Luna Lovegood, was tugging on my hand and asking, "Are you Ginny Weasley? Me mum told me all about you and Harry Potter and Hogwarts...My name is Katie..." She rambled on like that for a few more moments. I think I was so surprised to be recognized that I couldn't say anything at all. (I had a glimpse at what it's like to be _you_, Harry.)  
  
"Are your parents here, Katie?" I looked around the airport, wondering what in the world this tiny thing was doing wandering about by herself. She couldn't have been more than six years old.   
  
"Somewhere!" she replied brightly. She didn't seem at all concerned about being alone...I know I would have been scared out of my mind at that age talking to a stranger in the middle of a crowd, but she didn't seem fazed at all. I thought I should probably help her find them, and with any luck, maybe they would live close to where I was going, since they were obviously magical. I picked up my luggage (which isn't saying much, I only have one battered old trunk), and walked Katie around the airport a few times, hoping she would spot her parents somewhere. Eventually, I heard a frantic woman calling her name, who proceeded to literally kiss her all over and lecture her about wandering off all in one breath. She was very attractive, and had a strong Irish accent, even stronger than Seamus's. I stood there a little bit awkwardly for a few minutes until she finally noticed me.  
  
"Did ye find Katie wandering about? Honestly, sometimes she doesn't listen at all..." Her all ready large eyes widened slightly when she recognized me, and I noticed, but didn't say anything. "Look at me, I'm sorry, I haven't even introduced meself. I'm Bridget Regan, pleasure to meet you."  
  
I really liked this woman all ready. Even though she's a lot younger than my mum, she sort of gives off the same...warmth? She has long dark hair and a pale, creamy complexion, one I would die for, of course. She's not fat, but she's definitely not thin either. Her smile is what really won me over, though...she smiles like she means it. "I'm Ginny Weasley, it's nice to meet you, too."  
  
"A Weasley! Oh my! What are ye doin' in Ireland, my girl?!" Bridget took my arm and pretty much dragged me out of the airport at that point. I explained my situation to her, leaving out the part about your letter and this ridiculous _living_ nonsense (I'm kidding, I'm kidding...), and she immediately invited me to ride with her and her daughter all the way to Seamus and Lavender's village. They actually live there, as well...apparently it's the only wizarding community in this part of Ireland. We actually had a nice long chat on the drive here about you, Harry.  
  
"My dear, how is Harry Potter doing? The last we heard he was still in that awful coma...he hasn't woken up now, has he?" Bridget tried, obviously, to hide her curiosity about you, but failed miserably. I know people are only asking (constantly) because they genuinely care about what happens to you, but...I don't know how to explain it. I suppose it's just too fresh for me to actually be able to speak about you to other people without getting upset. Just hearing your name makes my chest constrict painfully, and it gets a little harder to breathe...a little bit harder to be so far away from you.  
  
I immediately had to blink back tears at the mention of the word 'coma' and Bridget noticed. "Oh, I'm sorry, Ginny, I didn't think before the words came out of me mouth. We don't have to talk about him..." I could tell she felt awkward, and I actually found that I didn't completely mind talking about you to this woman...I all ready said she reminds me of my mum, who I'm also missing quite bad, surprisingly. It makes me feel closer to you in a way.  
  
"No, I'm sorry, it's just..." I shrugged slightly, not sure how to explain myself. "I just don't know how to talk about him anymore. He is still in St. Mungo's." We spoke a little bit more about you and my family; she was genuinely concerned about everyone, and she even knew about Percy's death. She's a very easy person to talk to...maybe when you wake up, I'll send you here and have her sort out all of your problems. (I bet you'd love that, wouldn't you?)  
  
By the time we reached Ashlean, Katie was asleep in the back seat of the tiny car, and night was falling. The village is extremely small, but prosperous. Bridget said it's growing rapidly...apparently Seamus and Lavender aren't the only young couple to move here in the past few months. When I climbed out of the car at Bridget's cottage, I actually found myself wishing I could stay there with her and her family. (Katie is her only child, but she does have a husband whom I haven't yet met.) However, even though I've never been particularly fond of Lavender, I found myself longing for a familiar face...really, just longing for Hogwarts, I think.  
  
Bridget pointed me in the right direction and told me where to find their home, and instructed me to come and visit them soon, which I promised to do. I figured Bridget and Katie would be a good escape if Lavender got a little too carried away with talking about Divination or something...(I bet you're smiling right now, reading that.) So anyway, it didn't take long for me to find their house, but it did take a few minutes to get up the courage to ring the bell. I know it sounds stupid, but it's almost like I had to brace myself for whatever questions were going to come my way about you. It's different talking about you to Seamus and Lavender because they know you, and they know how I feel about you. It's embarrassing in a way. After I rang the bell, though, I knew I couldn't turn around and head back to Bridget's, so I stayed where I was.  
  
Lavender opened the door a few moments later, and didn't seem surprised to see me at all. "Ginny! Oh my gosh, it's so good to see you!" Before I could even get a word in, she embraced me and pulled me into the house, where Seamus proceeded to do the same. I think I laughed for the first time in weeks at how happy they were to have me there. They seemed to sense I was anticipating questions about you, and dreading them, and they avoided mentioning you at all costs the whole night. We did talk a little bit, but I was so exhausted after having a cup of tea that I was ready to sleep. They were actually expecting me; Dean sent them an owl the day before telling them of my plans and how I had inquired about them. This definitely saved me the trouble of having to ask if I could stay here...they all ready had my room prepared and waiting.  
  
It's a tiny space, but no smaller than my room at the Burrow. Lavender is definitely better at decorating than my mum, though. Nothing is extremely expensive since they don't have much money, but it's tastefully done at the same time. My room is decorated in green and white, which suits me perfectly, of course. The bedspread is white, embroidered with green flowers, and there are silky emerald curtains hanging in the windows. It's a very bright and inviting room...something I desperately need. I just caught myself sitting here staring at the green curtains a minute ago, thinking about your eyes. They're almost the exact shade.  
  
Sometimes I can't stop myself from thinking horrible thoughts, Harry. I guess I'm feeling this way because of how exhausted I am from my trip and everything, but...Harry, what if I never see your eyes again? What if you lay there for the rest of your life in that horrible, sterile room, and just waste away? It's not fair. We all need you so much. I need you.   
  
We're supposed to do things together, Harry. I know we've never even been together as a couple, but I just _know_. We're supposed to get married and have a family, and visit Ron and Hermione and their kids, and go back to the Burrow for family dinners and holidays...we're supposed to have a _life_. Sometimes I just get so bitter, and it's the most horrible feeling I've ever felt. I should be grateful for the things I still have, and the freedom to do whatever I want now that Voldemort is really gone. But I guess we always want the things we can't have, and mine is you. I just want you, Harry.  
  
I'm sorry...this letter got sad terribly fast. I promise to try and keep my spirits up and be as happy as I can be. But don't expect me to stop missing you. I always miss you.  
  
Forever,  
  
Ginny 


	4. Letter 3

Letter #3  
  
_September 15, 1998_  
  
Dear Harry,  
  
I'm so sorry for waiting this long to write to you. It's been a whole week and I can hardly believe it. No, I haven't forgotten about you, I've just been so amazingly busy. I actually have my first job...granted, it's not much, but at least I'm earning money, you know? I'm a waitress/barmaid at the local pub and inn called The Shamrock. It's actually quite a fun time; I'm always busy, and practically never have a chance to sit down. I've been working for six days now usually in a ten hour shift, but I'm starting to adjust. I don't think I've ever had so much to do.   
  
The Shamrock is a very lively place...always full of people, music, and laughter. It's hard to be sad while I'm there, which is good. The atmosphere is inviting with the huge bar stretching across the whole front of the tavern, and the shamrock-shaped lanterns lining the walls, along with the barstools themselves. There's a distinctly cheery feeling in The Shamrock, and it's almost a rule that you simply leave your problems at the door before stepping inside. The owner, Mr. Dunnigan, made that extremely clear to me on my first day.  
  
"Now listen here, young Ginny, The Shamrock is a place for the people of Ashlean to be happy! Ye must always have a smile on and never talk about the bad times!" He's a typical Irish man...loud, boisterous, and with a quick temper. He's honestly a joy to work for. Mr. Dunnigan loves telling jokes and stories about leprechauns and ghosts to the customers; who knows if they're really true. The Irish are truly mad for their folklore. Even Seamus has scared me a bit with his stories of banshees and ghouls. He insists that none have been spotted around here for at least ten years, though, and that I shouldn't be worried. I still don't like walking around at night by myself, though. I suppose that's the child in me coming out, scared of things that go bump in the night. It's been that way since the Chamber, and the nightmares about that certainly haven't stopped. You know that all ready, though.  
  
Today was actually my first day off from The Shamrock, but in a way I guess I was still working. Bridget called at Seamus and Lavender's early this morning and asked me to look after Katie tonight while her and her husband, Patrick, had a night out to themselves. I met Patrick for the first time a few days ago when he came into The Shamrock with some other men from the village. He's honestly the _tallest_ man I've ever seen, except for Hagrid, of course. He's also extremely charming, and it's obvious why he's married to Bridget. Their personalities complement each other perfectly, much like my own parents. Anyway, back to what I was saying before...  
  
Around seven o'clock I arrived at the Regan's cottage to watch Katie. From the moment I stepped into the house she never slowed down. I have no idea how someone so small possesses so much energy. We played several games of Chess, which she's actually rather good at for being so young, if she had the patience to actually sit through an entire game without becoming distracted, that is. Of course it made me miss Ron...  
  
About an hour after I was_ supposed_ to have her in bed, I finally managed to make her lie down. She has an adorable room, completely covered in pictures of famous Quidditch players and her favorite animals, cats. She told me she wants a cat when she gets a little older, but right now her mum thinks she would annoy one too much. I think I laughed for five minutes when she said that. She's funny without meaning to be, like most children are.   
  
I wasn't too sure how to put a child to bed, so I thought back on what my mum used to do for Ron and I when we were small. The only thing I remember is falling asleep listening to her tell stories about _you_, of all people. (It's really no wonder I love you so much; you've been with me since I can remember.) "Would you like to hear a story, Katie?" I asked, rather nervous for some reason.  
  
Immediately, her blue eyes lit up and she nodded. "Yes! Please tell me a story. Tell me a story about Harry Potter." She didn't ask to be told a story about you, she pretty well demanded it. I knew there would be no getting around her, either. She's much too clever for her own good, and I'm really starting to adore her for it.  
  
After a few moments of silence, I sighed, and gave in. "All right...it's not going to be too long though." I paused, not sure where to begin and not even totally sure what story I would even relate to her. Most of my tales involving you are embarrassing and pathetic, anyway. I could always talk about the time I put my elbow in the butter dish, or that ridiculous Valentine Fred and George sent to embarrass me (it worked)...or I could just start at the beginning. So that's what I did.  
  
"Well, I have quite a long history with Harry Potter, although he doesn't truly know it," I began talking quietly, missing you every moment. "When I was your age, my mum used to tell me stories about the night Harry defeated You-Know-Who; how he was just a baby and became an orphan when the Dark Lord murdered both of his parents. And I've always had a mad crush on him." I stopped here and grinned a little, shaking my head to clear it before continuing. "Anyway, I always had fairy-tale dreams of meeting Harry one day and being swept off of my feet by him. He would be tall, dark, and handsome...just perfect."  
  
"If there is one thing Harry Potter is it is _not_ perfect, which I suppose, in a way makes him perfect." I knew Katie probably didn't understand that at all, but I plowed ahead regardless. "The first time I saw Harry, I was on Platform 9 3/4 seeing my brothers Percy, Fred, George, and Ron off to Hogwarts. I was extremely sad this year, because I was going to be home all alone with just my parents. It was Ron's first year at school, you see, and before he left, we had always been best friends." I rolled my eyes slightly and muttered, "That certainly changed."  
  
"When a small, skinny boy with messy black hair and green eyes framed with broken glasses approached my family, shyly asking how to get onto the Platform, I immediately knew who he was. I don't know how I knew, seeing as the picture I had of Harry Potter in my mind was completely different from this person standing before me...but I knew." I suddenly found my throat constricting, remembering exactly how you had looked that day. You were so small, so young. I don't think I felt quite as young as I actually was, only ten years old, but I know you definitely looked it.   
  
"I only saw Harry for a couple of minutes, really only moments. However, all year I remembered him, and all year I convinced myself that someday, he and I would be together." I laughed a little. "We're not, and we never were, but..." I stopped, not really wanting to tell Katie anything about your current state, seeing as it's probably hard for a six year old child to comprehend. It's hard for _me_ to comprehend. I glanced down at Katie to see her still staring at me, wide-eyed, waiting for some sort of end to this strange story she was being told. I wasn't sure what to say, so I just told the truth. "I still think that someday Harry and I will be together." I didn't say anything else, just sort of sat there lost in thought until Katie shook me out of my reverie by speaking.  
  
"Thank you for the story. You tell good ones." She smiled and snuggled down farther under her blankets. I smiled a little, reaching down to smooth her hair. Then I stood up and made me way out of her bedroom, turning around to say goodnight before closing her door. I couldn't help but wonder at that moment if I would ever have a child to tell bedtime stories to someday. If you don't wake up, I certainly won't. And even if you do, I still don't know.  
  
When it comes right down to it, Harry, I have no idea how you honestly feel about me. I know you care for me, that's obvious from your letter. I don't know if you would ever want to be with me, though, actually marry me and start a family. Granted, that would be a long way into our future, but I've always known that's what I want with you. I don't know which is worse, having you reject me and be perfectly healthy and awake, or simply never knowing what might have been had you survived Voldemort unscathed.  
  
I suppose I would rather take rejection from you than have things be the way they are now. I would rather you were alive and healthy and with someone else than know you're lying unconscious in a hospital somewhere. I think I would just want you to be happy.  
  
I love you, Harry,  
  
Ginny

**_Author's Notes:_**

**Thank you so much to everyone who has reviewed so far! You have no idea how much I appreciate it, and I honestly take into account every comment and suggestion you make. For those of you who are so concerned about Harry waking up...I honestly haven't decided whether or not he will yet. :o) (Evil, I know.) I guess I'm going to base my decision on what kind of comments and suggestions I receive for the story.**

**_NOTE TO ALL MY FRIENDS:_**

**Ashley-did you catch your tribute? ;o)**

**Martina-just WHO in the world is Patrick Regan? Gee, I wonder...lol How pathetic am I, huh? Props to anyone besides Martina that can figure that one out. It really isn't that hard...**

**Jill-Hansonopoly! Heck yeah! Haha Thank you for reading my story, I really appreciate it. If you know a way you want to be included in the story-line, just let me know and I'll try to work it in.**

**As for everyone else...keep your eyes open, you never know where or when you might appear in Ginny's travels...**

**Aimee**


	5. Letters From Home

Letters from Home  
  
_September 22, 1998_  
  
Gin,  
  
Oh, Ginny, you have no idea what a stir you've caused by going away. Ron is going absolutely crazy worrying about you and wondering if you've completely "gone off your rocker" as he so gently puts it. Don't worry, though, I know you haven't. I'm not completely sure what compelled you to go to Ireland, but I think I have some idea. Is it that letter Harry wrote to you? Maybe I'm wrong, but when he gave it to me, I got a sense that it was quite important to him. After all, he didn't write anyone _else_ a letter.  
  
I can't imagine what he would say to make you go away, though. If you want to talk about it, you know I'm here, don't you? I know we're not best friends, but you certainly are my closest girl friend, and I miss talking to you every day.  
  
I noticed you've been writing to Harry. I've been collecting all of your letters and putting them in a box, in the order they arrive. No one is reading them, and no one ever will until Harry wakes up, trust me. Ron has tried convincing me to let him read them to Harry, but I won't let him. Whatever they say, I know it's personal, and Ron is just being a nosy prat.   
  
Ron sends his love to you, though, and says he promises to write to you himself soon, but he's quite busy helping your father at the Ministry. He's doing a marvelous job, even if he doesn't think so. And your father is an _excellent_ Minister of Magic. Your whole family is so proud of him, the way he's trying to reshape our world. We're so lucky to live right now, Ginny. And things are going to get better, I promise.  
  
I hope you're happy in Ireland, although something tells me you aren't going to stay there for very long. Will you tell me where you're going to go next? I know you won't come home this soon. I would suggest Italy, or even France. I'm sure Bill and Fleur would be happy to have you stay with them in Paris. Please write back to me, Ginny, and let me know you're alright.  
  
Love,  
  
Hermione  
  
Hermione,   
  
Thank you for the letter, it made me smile. Tell Ron he needs to calm down, because you're right; I'm not coming home anytime soon. Me leaving does have something to do with what Harry wrote to me, but I really don't want to explain it. I don't know if it's even explainable.   
  
Thank you for keeping my letters to Harry, it means a lot to me. I want him to know exactly what I'm doing when he wakes up. And please, promise to owl me as soon as you can if something changes with him. I miss him, terribly, and it doesn't really matter where I am, because I would still miss him even I was sitting next to his bed in St. Mungo's.   
  
Tell Ron I'm proud of him for helping dad out, and that he better keep his promise about sending me an owl. I miss him, and I miss you, and I promise to write to you more. I love you both.  
  
Ginny  
  
_September 23, 1998_  
  
Dear Ginny,  
  
Hello, dear. I just wanted to write and tell you that your father and I are thinking about you every day. All of your brothers keep asking how you are, and we don't really know what to tell them. When are you coming home, Ginny? I know you tried to explain this journey of yours to us, but I can't help but feel that you're running away, dear. Nothing has changed with Harry, and I can't imagine that you don't want to be here with him. Please owl us and at least let us know that you're coming home for Christmas.   
  
Love,  
  
Mum   
  
Mum,  
  
I don't know if I'm coming home for Christmas yet. It's a few months away, there's no need for me to worry about it now. I'm sorry for leaving like I did, but it's just something I needed to do. Please accept it, all right? I'm having a fine time in Ireland, and staying with Seamus and Lavender is almost like being back at Hogwarts again. (Not really, though.) I miss you and dad terribly, and I hear from Hermione he's doing a fine job as Minister. Give him my love.   
  
I love you, Mum,  
  
Ginny 


	6. Letter 4

Letter #4  
  
_September 28, 1998  
_  
Dear Harry,  
  
I just got back from one of the most amazing places I have ever been, one that you have to come see someday. The Cliff's of Moher are just...bloody fantastic. I don't even know how to describe them. They're at least seven hundred feet high, and the ocean just rages against them, almost as if it's angry they're there to keep it contained. They're about five miles long, from what I learned from one of the tourists present. I hiked along them for a while, until I came to a tower that marks the highest point of the cliffs.  
  
It's called O'Brien's tower, and it was built in 1835 by a man named Cornelius O'Brien, who was actually a descendent of Ireland's last great High King, Brian Boru. I have my suspicions that Brian Boru was a wizard, but I haven't gotten around to asking Seamus. He did amazing things, and is considered to be Ireland's greatest leader. He lived a long, long time ago, in the early 1000's.  
  
There's actually a feeling of ancient magic around the Cliff's, similar to the feeling you get at Stonehenge, although I don't know if you've ever been there, either. It's like it actually shimmers in the air around you, making you think you can physically reach out and touch it. You can't, of course, but you know it's there all the same. I think that may be why Muggles are drawn to places like Stonehenge and the Cliffs. The magic is so strong that even _they_ can sense it; they just don't know what it is.  
  
I feel strangely content after spending the afternoon there. I'm so happy with my decision to leave England, even though it meant leaving you. This is something I needed to do. If it wasn't for you, Harry, I never would have had the courage. I've decided to leave Ireland in a week, since with another few days pay, I'll have enough money saved to fly to Austria and rent a room at an inn for a few days, at least. I'll explain why I've decided to go there in my next letter.  
  
I told Bridget, who's become a good friend, of my decision to leave yesterday, and she didn't take the news very well. "Oh, no, Ginny! I thought ye'd be stayin' longer than this! Katie is goin' to be so upset to see ye go!" Bridget paused at the sink where she stood washing the evening's supper dishes with a frown on her face. I sighed, taking a sip of the tea she made for me earlier.  
  
"I'm going to miss her, too, Bridget, and you," I said quietly, "but I can't stay here forever and impose on Seamus and Lavender, and I made a promise to myself before this all started that I would see as many places as I could before..." I stopped, still not wanting to talk about you. I guess I've never wanted to discuss you too much around Bridget because I'm afraid she'll think I'm a bore, obsessed with you.  
  
"Ye have to see as much as ye can before Harry wakes up?" She sat down at the table next to me after abandoning the dishes in the sink. I just nodded, not sure if I could speak without crying.  
  
I finally confessed something to her, something that I hate and feel guilty thinking about, but it slipped out before I could stop myself. "If he wakes up, you mean." I gasped after I said it, immediately covering my mouth with my hands. "Oh, no. No, I didn't mean that. He's going to wake up, he really is." I stopped my frantic talking after a minute, realizing my hands were shaking. I felt like a complete fool at that moment, but Bridget just looked at me sympathetically.   
  
"Katie told me the story ye told her," she said gently. "It's very romantic...ye've loved him all these years." I nodded slightly and looked down at the table, not wanting to meet her eyes. Truth be told, I've always felt stupid for loving you, Harry, because there's never been any indication that you love me back, until that letter. And even in it, you never came out and said "I love you." You just implied that you were worried, _concerned_ for me, because I'm only a silly little girl who can't live without you there to come to my rescue.  
  
I looked at Bridget, trying very hard to control the words that I wanted to say, let out the frustration that I've always felt because of you. "Romantic? It's romantic that if he never wakes up, I'm going to spend my life _alone_ because I can't be with anyone else? Even though I've never even been with him because he doesn't feel the same way about me?" By this time, I was crying so hard I could barely see. My fists were clenched on the tabletop, and my knuckles were white.  
  
Bridget frowned, raising her eyebrows at me. "How do ye know he doesn't feel the same way? Have ye ever asked him?"  
  
I let out a choked laugh. "Ask Harry Potter how he feels about me? Are you kidding? I've only been able to speak normally around him for two years. I can't even _think_ straight when he's around, and I..." I shook my head fiercely. "I would be too afraid to know how he feels."  
  
Bridget took my hands in hers, squeezing them gently. "He's a fool if he doesn't love ye, Ginny. You're one of the best witches I've ever known, and he would be _lucky_ to love ye."  
  
I stopped, suddenly realizing I hadn't taken a breath in at least a minute. No one had ever said anything so sweet and heartfelt to me, and I wasn't quite sure how to respond. "Bridget, I...that's the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me. Thank you." I smiled at her and squeezed her hands. Suddenly, I found myself reaching into my robes and pulling out your letter, staring at it. I glanced up at Bridget, debating whether or not I should let her actually read it. No one had except for me, and you.  
  
I finally handed it to her, reluctant to let it go. "Harry wrote that to me before the Final Battle. He had Hermione promise to deliver to me in case he died." I took a shaky breath and continued. "He didn't, of course, but Hermione decided to give it to me anyway, on the off chance that you know he...doesn't make it. It's the reason I left England. You can read it, if you want..." I trailed off, suddenly extremely nervous. I picked a spot on the wall to stare at as Bridget read the letter, going over it several times before she finally gave any sign of what she thought.  
  
Finally, she laughed. She actually _laughed_ at your letter. I looked at her quickly, feeling my face turn red with rage. How could she laugh at me like that? I just let her read the most important thing in the world to me and she laughs in my face about it? I started to get up from the table, intent on walking out of her house and never coming back. She grabbed my arm to stop me, pulling me back down to my seat. "No! No, Ginny, stop. It's not what ye think!" She was laughing so hard tears were practically running down her cheeks. "I just can't believe you think he doesn't love ye!"  
  
I stopped, frozen, my mouth hanging open slightly. _"What?"_ I asked. I couldn't honestly believe she thought you loved me, just by reading it. Of course, you apologize for not being with me and everything, but I guess I just thought you meant "Sorry for breaking your heart" or something. It would be like you to apologize to me for _me_ falling for _you_.   
  
Bridget finally stopped laughing and instead just grinned. "It's obvious he's mad about ye, silly girl. He's just a typical man; doesn't know how to say it." She gently slapped my arm, just hard enough to feel a sting. "Don't ye go doubting his feelings for you for one more minute. He loves ye enough to write ye a letter, saying all those sweet things, and you doubt him? Horrible." I could tell she was teasing me at that point, and I couldn't help but start to feel a little bit better from her words.   
  
"Do you really think so, Bridget?" I smiled, biting my lip, feeling like I was still eleven years old with a massive crush on you.  
  
"I wouldn't say it if I didn't think it, now would I?" She got up and crossed back over to the sink where she proceeded to start on the dishes again. "He'll wake up and ye both will live happily ever after, just like in those Muggle Fairy Tales."  
  
Well, happily ever after sounds good to me. You just have to wake up first. But we've been over that, all ready, haven't we? You know you need to wake up, and after talking with Bridget...I honestly think that when you're ready, you will.  
  
I'll write to you again when I've arrived in Salzburg.

Love always,

Ginny


	7. Letter 5

_Author's Notes:  
_  
Wow. I'm completely overwhelmed with some of the reviews I've been getting. You are all saying such wonderful comments and I am so unbelievably touched and thrilled. Thank you SO MUCH for taking the time to read my story and let me know what you think. It means so much!  
  
To answer the question a lot of you have been asking...Is Harry Going to Wake Up? Well if I told you, then what would be the point in finishing the story?! ;o) To be perfectly honest, I have two perfectly completed endings in my head. It remains to be seen, however, which one I will use when the time comes...  
  
Now, a few individual comments to reviewers so far...  
  
**OneWhoWrites1:** A fellow Hanson fan! Heck yeah! Hi! I'm glad you noticed my name, and you're right, it does come from the song, "Lulla Belle." To anyone that doesn't have Hanson's brand new independent album, "Underneath," please go and buy it right now. You like my story...trust my taste in music! Haha  
  
**Lily-Potter8:** Thank you for the lovely review, and all of the suggestions!! I've definitely been thinking about them...  
  
**Saraiyu:** Thank you for saying it deserves more reviews! I hope it actually gets more!  
  
**NYCDreamerGirl:** You have no idea how thrilled I am to be on someone's favorites list. Ah, I love you! :o)   
  
**Dianne:** You are definitely my most dedicated reviewer yet. I was absolutely stunned at all you had to say about the story, and it made me so excited! Your suggestions were wonderful, and you might actually be hearing from me asking your opinion on future events, I thought they were so good...Absolutely fantastic, thank you.  
  
**MagicalJules:** I'm so glad you said that "Ginny breaks your heart." That's really the emotion I was going for in this, and you're the first person to quite word it like that...to realize the extent of what she's doing; living for Harry. You rock, 'nuff said.   
  
**LilyEvans:** Your review totally made my night. I'm so glad you're enjoying the story, even though you're not a H/G shipper like myself. And it's honestly some of the best romance you've ever read in a fan fic?...whoa. I'm humbled, thank you a million times. What greater compliment could I ask for than that?  
  
**Jill:** I can't wait to put your hippy-ass self in my story. Ha! Thanks for all of your help, it's going to definitely make a huge difference in the way I write this story. Love ya!  
  
Okay, that's the list for now. But thank you to absolutely everyone that has reviewed, I've saved every one of them, and I appreciate it so much. THANK YOU AGAIN! Onto the letter!

Letter #5  
  
_October 12, 1998_  
  
Dear Harry,  
  
I've been in Salzburg, Austria for a week now, and I'm enjoying every minute of it. I never expected it was going to be so hard to say goodbye to Bridget, though. She's become one of the best friends I've ever had, and I'm going to miss her terribly. I'm sure I'll see her and Katie again, but it won't be tomorrow, or a week from now, or even a year from now. It could be a very, very long time, and Katie is so young she'll probably forget me anyway. We all cried when I left, even Lavender. I haven't written too much about her and Seamus, but don't think they haven't been just as important as the Regan's.   
  
Lavender has been so wonderful and sweet to me. We grew leaps and bounds in the time I spent in Ireland. At Hogwarts we were just acquaintances, and if I gave her a thought at all it was to make fun of her obsession with Professor Trelawney and her fascination with the art of Divination. We're so _wrong_ about some people, though, Harry. How could I ever have formed an opinion of someone without even knowing them? I thought I was so mature, so grown up...because of the war, of the diary, from loving you. I was wrong, though, and I think I've been wrong about a lot of things. Lavender is a magnificent person; she may be a bit of an air-head at times, and she's a typical gossip, but she would do anything for anyone. Her and Seamus are so lucky to have each other. It was harder leaving Ashlean than I ever imagined it would be, but I have a feeling I may go back sooner than I think.  
  
As much as I do miss Ireland, I have never seen a more beautiful city than Salzburg, Austria. I guess I got quite lucky in choosing this place, since there was really no rhyme or reason for coming here at all. I simply bought a map of Europe, closed my eyes, pointed to a spot on the map, and this is where my finger happened to land. I feel like a very lucky witch at the moment.  
  
After landing at the airport, I managed to get a taxi to bring me into the city. I couldn't concentrate at all on the drive in because I was so struck by how beautiful the countryside is. There are literally no words to describe it. Everything is lush and green, and the Alps are simply breath-taking. They rise above Salzburg like giants, towering over absolutely everything. The architecture, old Baroque cathedrals with huge spires, and Hohensalzburg Castle, is a world all it's own.   
  
I haven't written for a week because I've been too busy exploring and learning the history of Salzburg. I feel extremely un-worldly after being here, and really, quite stupid. What kind of bubble have I been living in all my life? There's more to the world than the Burrow, Hogwarts, and London, and I never even gave it a second thought. There's so much to see and do, and really, so much to live for. Thank you for making me realize that, albeit in a very round-about way.  
  
The Salzach River flows directly through the city, and if you position yourself just right on a bridge a little bit upstream, you have the most amazing view. The first thing I did when I arrived here was bought a camera, and I've taken many pictures from that bridge. It's a Muggle camera, though, because I haven't actually met anyone else magical, and I have no idea where to look for them, either. I also have no desire to; I'm enjoying my anonymity. The camera is quite easy to use, though, and it's so fun taking photographs. I may have found a new hobby...  
  
Back to what I've been doing all this time...on my first day here, I located a hostel to stay in. It's extremely small, and very old, but it's clean, so it suits me just fine. I'm only there to sleep, most of the time, anyway. I asked the woman who owns it what I should see first in Salzburg, and she told me whatever I did, I had to attend a special concert that night of the famous composer Mozart's music. It turns out Salzburg is actually Mozart's birthplace, and the house where he was born is now a museum dedicated to him. I had actually never heard any of Mozart's compositions, and I knew very little about him until this week, but believe me, I've become acquainted extremely fast. The actual concert was held in Hohensalzburg Castle, the largest fully preserved castle in Europe. It's over fourteen thousand square meters, much bigger than Hogwarts.  
  
The nine hundred year old castle sits on a hill directly above Salzburg, and it's so immense it almost looks as if you could fit the entire city within it's walls. You could probably spend years living there and still get lost along it's immense hallways and passages. It was amazing to be inside, and to listen to Mozart's beautiful music there. I don't know why, possibly because my emotions are stretched so thin lately and I feel so different from what I used to be, but something inside of me completely connected to Mozart. I'm sending Hermione a letter along with this one, telling her that she simply has to start playing Mozart's symphonies for you, Harry. I know you'll love them.  
  
The next day, I went to an extremely charming shopping district, the Getreidegasse, which reminded me of Diagon Alley, in a way. The shops are squeezed together in a narrow little alleyway, all with colorful wrought-iron signs above the doors. The alley is supposed to appear just as it did in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, and I really did feel like I had traveled back in time. The shops sold lots of things: jewelry, leather goods, perfumes, food, clothes...and those were only the stores I managed to look around in. I tried to find something to buy for you, but I didn't see anything that seemed worthy. (Plus, I don't exactly have a lot of money to throw around.) By dinner, I was too hungry to shop anymore, so I went back to the hostel, which provides free food for the girls staying there.  
  
I had a fun night eating with some of the other girls who are renting rooms. We talked about lots of things, mainly boys, which they seem to be crazy about, and I told them about staying in Ireland, and some of the other places I'm planning to go. They were all extremely jealous about the "adventure" I'm having. The owner of the hostel, Mrs. Rosen gave me the name of a friend of hers who actually owns a hostel in Rome, so if I go there I'll hopefully have a place to stay. I never mentioned anything about you, Hermione, Ron, or any of my family, though. I didn't want to say something out of the ordinary, since all of the other girls were Muggles.  
  
Since then, I've been walking around the city every day, taking pictures of interesting buildings, visiting the Cathedrals, and taking small hikes in the mountains, usually with a tour guide and a group of people. The view from up high on the mountains is the most amazing thing I've ever seen, and I've taken about a million photos to show everyone at home. I'm sending a few along with this letter, so you can see them as soon as you wake up. I felt as if I was standing among the Heavens, and I wanted nothing more than for you to be there with me. Of course, I always wish you were here. I think I've realized though, that I can wish all I want, and it doesn't do me any good. Hope is another story altogether.   
  
I've also been thinking quite a bit about where my next destination is going to be. At this point, I'm running a bit low on money, so I don't know how I'm going to manage going to another city and not having a job. That means I'll have to stay an extended period of time wherever I go next, in order to save, and continue traveling. Hermione mentioned staying with my brother, Bill, in France.  
  
To be honest, I'm actually nervous to do that. My family is extremely close, closer than most, but in all honestly, I don't truly know Bill that well. One of my first memories is seeing him off to Hogwarts, and I barely remember him ever living at home. I've never been close to him or Charlie; however, this could be my one and only opportunity to actually get to know him. (Notice how I'm debating with myself here.)  
  
Staying with Fleur would be a trip as well. She's so much younger than Bill, I can't believe they're actually married. I've only seen Fleur a few times, and my strongest memories of her are, of course, from the Triwizard Tournament in my third year. I know they would gladly let me stay with them. Also, my birthday is coming up in ten days, and it would be nice to be with family when I turn seventeen. So, I guess I've just made up my mind. I'm going to go to France and stay with Bill and Fleur.  
  
I'll write to you in about a week, after I arrive safely at Bill and Fleur's home. I love you, Harry, and more than anything, I want to come home to you.  
  
Love always and forever,  
  
Ginny


	8. Letter 6

Letter #6  
  
_October 19, 1998_  
  
Harry,  
  
I arrived in France yesterday, and Bill was waiting at the airport in Paris to pick me up. I don't know why, but I was more nervous stepping off that plane knowing he was going to be there than I have been at any point on this whole crazy trip. More than anything, I dreaded the lecture I was certain he would give about running off and making mum and dad worry about me, their baby.  
  
Surprisingly, it never came. I spotted Bill in the crowd right away, ponytail and earring still in place as usual, looking out the window at some of the airplanes on the runways. It's a sight I guess I've grown used to since I've now been on three planes, but apparently Bill had never seen any before. "Hi, Bill." I waited until I was only a few feet away from him to speak, my voice sounding insignificant and small in the huge airport, and betraying my nervousness just slightly.  
  
He started and turned towards me, his face breaking into a gigantic grin as he took in my appearance. "Ginny! You look great!" He quickly closed the distance that remained between us and enveloped me in a bone-crushing hug. "How have you been?"  
  
I smiled against his shoulder and closed my eyes, starting to let my guard down a bit with his words. He hadn't asked that question the way I was used to hearing it from the rest of my family, as if I was too fragile to be talked to normally, like I was about to break apart from grief at any second. Bill spoke as if he actually meant it, like he was only curious. "I'm good, Bill. How are you? And Fleur?"  
  
He finally released me from his arms, his face turning slightly pink at the mention of his wife's name. (Alas, it's a curse all Weasley's are born with: blushing). "We're good, too. And Fleur's really glad you're going to be staying with us, she can't wait to get to know you better." He picked up my bag and motioned for me to follow him. "I borrowed a neighbor's car to come get you, that's how we're getting home." He looked at me and smiled, then said emphatically, "I've been looking at those airplanes...I can't believe you've actually gotten on one. Bloody inconvenient; you're learning how to Apparate while you're here. We'd floo home, but the nearest fireplace would take as long to get to as it takes getting home in the car."  
  
I grinned, wondering how much easier Apparating would make my travels, and followed him outside to the car, barely catching a glimpse of the Paris skyline in the distance, along with the Eiffel Tower. "Wow, that's gorgeous..." I stopped to stare for a minute, letting Bill get a few paces ahead of me before I hurried to catch up.  
  
Bill followed my gaze and gestured to Paris, "Yeah, we'll have to show you around. It's a pretty cool place, although it doesn't beat Egypt," he added as an after-thought. "We're going the opposite direction, though. Fleur and I live about thirty minutes from here, outside the city."  
  
I nodded and climbed into the passenger seat of the car, taking a deep breath and trying to dispel the last of my nerves. The drive to La Ville da Seine (Bill and Fleur's little town, it literally means "Village on the River Seine") was pleasant. We kept the conversation flowing, but didn't discuss anything too deep. I could tell after a while that Bill was as nervous as I was, and that reassured me slightly. Eventually, I told him about Ireland and Austria, and that I was still planning to travel after leaving France. He got on my good side by never asking when I'm planning to go home.  
  
You know, for as long as I can remember Bill has looked the same...the long hair, the earring, trendy clothes; sort of a bad boy image. That's not really how he is at all, although I guess other women do find him attractive because of it. How else could he have gotten Fleur Delacour, honestly? He's sort of a dork in actuality, probably the most like Percy out of any of us. He has a greater taste for adventure than Percy ever did, but he's certainly as smart. After all, he is the only other Head Boy in the family. Being around Bill makes me miss Percy, but I really don't like thinking about him for too long. It still hurts too much. I know I should be grateful that more of us didn't die, that _almost_ the whole family survived the war, but that doesn't mean I can't miss my brother.  
  
We arrived at the house a short while later, a charming, two-story brick home that would probably fit in just as well in a Muggle neighborhood as it does in their wizarding one. Fleur must have been watching for us; she opened the front door as soon as we pulled up in the car, looking every bit as gorgeous as I remembered. Whenever I have a weak moment, like every girl, and think I'm terribly ugly, _hers_ is always the face and body I wish I had. I followed Bill up to the front door, smiling slightly as he kissed Fleur on the cheek, and then motioned to me, "Fleur, you remember my sister, Ginny. You met her last Christmas."  
  
Fleur nodded and smiled, coming down a few steps to give me a hug. "Of course, I remember. Ginny, 'ow are you? You look absolutely stunning! You 'ave grown so much!" The first thing I noticed was that Fleur's English has improved considerably; she still has an accent, of course, but it isn't as pronounced as it used to be.   
  
I blushed a little at her praise, not used to hearing things like that very often. "I'm great, thank you for letting me stay with you." I followed her into the house, glancing at my surroundings quickly. Fleur has wonderful taste, I must say. The whole house is richly decorated, but not overdone. Every room seems to have a different theme: the living room is much like the Gryffindor Common Room, set in deep red, gold, and dark wood; the kitchen has lots of windows that keep it light and airy, and all the cabinets are white; finally, my guest bedroom is pale blue, with pictures of the ocean covering the walls. Fleur let me choose between the blue room and a different guest room, decorated in dark purple, but the ocean won me over, I guess. It's very relaxing, watching the waves continually roll onto the sand and seeing the seagulls glide lazily in the sky.   
  
Earlier, Fleur came into my room and helped me unpack, insisting that I take advantage of the dresser and closet space and not live out of my luggage. I guess she didn't realize that I didn't bring anything other than one trunk with me. "This is all you 'ave?" she asked, staring at the empty trunk next to the bed and the mostly bare closet behind me as if she couldn't comprehend that I'm living with so little.  
  
I squirmed a bit under her disbelieving gaze, a little ashamed of my poverty, as always. "Yes...I don't really need much to travel with. Just some clothes and the essentials, and I'm happy." I smiled, pushing the battered old trunk under the bed with my foot. It's the smallest trunk I could find, and even then, I still have extra room when all of my clothes and belongings are inside. I sat down on the bed, trying to think of something else to say to break the awkwardness that had descended upon the room. "Um...I really like your house, it's very nice."  
  
Fleur smiled and sat down in the wicker chair across the room from me, trying very hard to be sociable. "It 'as been fun to decorate. Bill lets me do whatever I want." She tilted her head slightly, and said seriously, "Your bruzzer is a very good man."  
  
I nodded, swinging my legs up onto the bed and lounging there lazily. "From what I hear he is...I don't really know him that well, I suppose," I answered truthfully. "That's a big reason why I wanted to come here, to get to know him better. And you, of course." I smiled at her, noticing how much easier it was to just talk than stay silent like I have been for so many months, especially in front of my family.  
  
Fleur nodded thoughtfully, "Yes, 'e is very glad you are 'ere. And I'm sure we will become good friends." She stood up and crossed the room , giving me a quick hug before going to the door. "It is your birthday, soon, non?" she asked curiously.  
  
I nodded, surprised that she knew; Bill must have remembered and told her. "Yes. On Thursday, actually." I sighed a little, not really too excited at the prospect of turning seventeen and being of legal age. It's just one more thing you aren't here to experience with me, Harry. Hell, you didn't even get to experience your own birthday this summer. It's really not fair, but then again, when has anything in your life _ever_ been fair? (Maybe we should be used to that by now.)  
  
Fleur smiled widely and clapped her hands, seemingly delighted. "Ooh! We will 'ave to get you something special to wear, and Bill and I will take you out for a fancy Paris dinner!" I didn't really know what to say to this, and I could tell Fleur wanted to please me, so I just nodded after a minute, saying goodnight quietly as she closed my door.  
  
So...I suppose I'm going to get a new outfit, and Bill and Fleur are going to take me out for my birthday, whether I protest or not. I have a feeling, though, that this birthday won't be much to celebrate, even though it should be. After all, I'll be of legal age, and able to do magic whenever I please. Nothing is the same, though, and if you don't wake up, nothing will ever be the same again.   
  
Love,  
  
Ginny 


	9. Letters From Home 2

Letters From Home  
  
_October 22, 1998  
_  
Dear Ginny,  
  
Happy Birthday! I thought you may be able to use these since you're not in school this year, but technically _should_ be. I do hope you'll finish your studies at some point, though, and these books will help you get started. I hope you're having a wonderful time in France with Bill and Fleur.  
  
We were all amazed at the photos you sent of Salzburg, Ginny. They're beautiful, and it looks like you're having a marvelous adventure. You have a real talent for photography; I bet you could give Colin Creevey a run for his money! (He's probably a bit more obsessive than you, though. Remember how he constantly chased Harry around with his camera?)   
  
I'm playing Mozart in Harry's room every day, by the way. When no one is there, I have the nurses turn it on for him. It's very soothing, and the doctors think it's a good idea to play music to stimulate his brain instead of having silence constantly. Apparently, Ron isn't very fond of classical music, though. (What did we expect? He's such a typical _boy_.)   
  
I miss you, Ron misses you, everyone misses you, but I really just want you to be happy, and it truly sounds like you're getting there. Take pictures of Paris for me, and start writing more! I miss hearing from you!  
  
Love,  
  
Hermione  
  
Gin,  
  
What is this bloody music you're making us play for Harry? It's horrible! I turn it off whenever I can, but Hermione usually catches me and forces me to actually sit and listen. No matter what she says about "classical" and "art", it all sounds the same to me.  
  
We got your pictures of Austria. WOW. The mountains are huge, and the scenery was incredible. You must be having an amazing trip, and even though I think you're absolutely crazy for going on it in the first place...I do hope you're enjoying yourself.  
  
I'm sure you're having a good time with Bill and Fleur, Bill said they were taking you out to some fancy Paris restaurant that I can't pronounce for your birthday. Oh, yeah, Happy Birthday, by the way. Now you can learn to Apparate and do magic whenever you feel like it. (Not really that big of a deal, is it?) I hope you like what I sent.  
  
Since you're writing so many bloody letters to Harry, I thought maybe you could use some "stationary" (at least that's what Hermione called it) and a nice quill to write with. What's in those letters, anyway? Don't you think someone should be reading them to Harry? As your favorite brother and Harry's best mate, I volunteer to do the job. Let me know.

Have a good birthday, Ginny.  
  
Love,  
  
Ron


	10. Letter 7

Letter #7  
  
_October 22, 1997_  
  
_Ginny slowly tiptoed down the stairs leading from the sixth year girl's dormitory to the Common Room of Gryffindor Tower, fully intending to go right back up if she heard or saw anyone still awake. The Common Room, however, was dark and empty, the fire just starting to die in the grate. Ginny didn't know why she was still awake at this hour, but for some reason, she couldn't sleep. Maybe it was the fact that in fifteen minutes, she would officially turn sixteen years old. She doubted anyone would remember, though; with the war going on, people dying every day, and Voldemort to defeat, she honestly didn't blame them. She hadn't remembered herself until about an hour ago.  
  
Ginny sighed and walked to the couch in front of the fireplace, giving a little gasp as she came extremely close to sitting right on top of someone. It was Harry, fast asleep with his glasses askew, and a book teetering dangerously on the edge of the seat. Ginny took it and set it on the table before it tumbled to the floor and woke Harry up, then sat down silently in the chair next to the couch. She couldn't think of a better way to begin her birthday than watching Harry sleep.  
  
Ginny settled back in the chair with a soft sigh, studying Harry's expression closely. Even in sleep he didn't seem to be at peace; there were faint lines on his forehead and his mouth was set in a grim line. She leaned closer to him, biting her lip, wondering what he was dreaming about. From what she had gathered over the past year, spying on whispered conversations between the inseparable trio, Harry had frequent dreams about Lord Voldemort that sometimes turned out to not be dreams at all, but visions of what Voldemort was doing. This was, in fact, how he knew her father had been attacked by the gigantic snake in the Ministry of Magic during her fourth year.   
  
Without thinking, Ginny lifted a hand and brushed his messy hair back from his forehead, revealing the lightning-shaped scar he was so famous for. It was faintly red, almost fresh-looking, and she wondered just how much it had been hurting lately to make it look like that.  
  
She slowly lifted a trembling hand, her heart pounding, and traced the lines of his scar, wishing there was something she could do to help him. He had such a burden on his shoulders, and even though he had most of the Wizarding World behind him, it was still his destiny to face alone. She couldn't believe what she was doing, touching him like this, but for some reason, she couldn't stop herself. Suddenly, Ginny gasped and jumped back from the couch, hitting her shoulder roughly on a table, her wrist held tightly in Harry Potter's grasp.   
  
He was looking at her with wide green eyes, clutching her wrist in his hand and looking slightly confused, breathing heavily. "Harry," Ginny gasped, trying to wrench her hand away from Harry's grip, "I'm so sorry, I shouldn't be down here..." She silently cursed his Seeker reflexes, feeling like a complete fool for being caught in such a strange position.  
  
Harry stared at her a moment more, then let go of her arm abruptly, his mouth opening and closing like a fish. "Ginny, what?...I...what's going on?"  
  
Ginny rubbed her sore wrist absently, feeling her face heat up under his gaze. "I couldn't sleep, so I came down to the Common Room, but you were sleeping on the couch, so I just sat here and watched you..." Ginny stopped, realizing she was rambling and probably making herself seem even dumber than before. "Um. Anyway..."  
  
Harry raised his eyebrows and glanced around the Common Room, still looking rather drowsy from being awakened so quickly. He lifted a hand to his scar, a quizzical look on his face, then looked back at her curiously. "Were you...touching me?" Now it was his turn to blush furiously.  
  
Ginny's eyes widened and she swallowed, looking down at the floor as if she suddenly found the worn carpet extremely fascinating. "Oh, um, well, yes," she stammered, "I touched your...your scar," she finished quietly.  
  
Harry's eyes widened slightly and he slumped back on the couch, reaching up to flatten his hair over his scar. "Oh," he said simply.  
  
Clumsily, Ginny pulled herself up from the floor, sitting down heavily in the chair. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to...to wake you up. I don't know why I did..." She swallowed and said tentatively, "Were you having a dream? About Voldemort, I mean? Because your face, before I woke you, looked...worried..."  
  
Harry raised his eyebrows and continued to stare at the remains of the fire. "I'm always worried. I probably always look worried." Somehow, Ginny knew, he was avoiding answering her question, which probably mean t that he was, indeed, dreaming about Voldemort. "Did I do that?" Ginny looked up to see Harry staring at her wrist, which was red and slightly bruised all ready from being in his tight grasp.  
  
She hadn't even noticed the marks until he said anything. "Oh, it's nothing. Don't worry about it, it's my fault for startling you." She smiled and pulled her pajama sleeves down lower to cover the marks.  
  
Harry sighed. "Sorry about that." There was silence for a few more moments, and Ginny had just begun to feel awkward before Harry asked, "Isn't it your birthday today?"  
  
It took a moment for the question to register in her mind. Harry had remembered? She wasn't aware that he even knew when her birthday was. She looked up at him and nodded slowly, too amazed to speak.   
  
"Well, Happy Birthday, then. I hope you have a good day...not the greatest start, though." He laughed a little awkwardly and patted her hand before getting up and heading for the stairs to the Boy's Dormitory. "Sorry, again, about...you know." He shrugged and gave one final wave before turning and going up the stairs.  
  
Ginny stared after him for quite some time before finally turning back around to the fire. She couldn't believe it. Harry Potter knew when her birthday was. And he was very wrong about one thing: it had definitely been a good start.  
_  
_October 22, 1998_  
  
Dear Harry,  
  
Do you remember that night? I can't believe it's all ready been an entire year since then. The whole world has literally changed within the space of twelve months. In most ways, I know in my heart it's changed for the better. The only negative part is what's happened to you, of course.   
  
I had that dream tonight, almost like I was re-living the memory at the exact moment it happened last year. It was such a small, fairly insignificant event, but it meant so much to me. My birthday was mostly overlooked last year with everything else going on. The fact that you, of all people, remembered was indescribable to pathetic, love-struck me.  
  
That night sort of set the tone for the rest of the year, didn't it? We were a little bit more comfortable with each other after that, for some strange reason. I actually thought at first that it would have the exact opposite effect. I expected you to be embarrassed every time you saw me, and to avoid looking me in the eye for the rest of your days. That's not at all what happened, though.  
  
I feel like the most selfish person in history right now. It's so horrible for me to think this way, because I know you did what you had to do, and that it's a good thing Voldemort is dead. But, Harry, I would trade everything, Voldemort dying and the Death Eaters being imprisoned, just to have you back. I miss having something to fight for, I miss seeing the members of the Order and feeling like part of a unit, and I miss feeling close to you. When we actually had something to work towards, wiping out Voldemort and his Death Eaters, things were so much simpler. There was a common goal, and everyone played their part and knew what to do.  
  
Now there's nothing, for me at least. I'm supposed to be finishing school, but Hogwarts is closed, and I'm literally wandering from country to country looking for something to keep me happy and occupied long enough to not have to think about what happens after this. That's the part no one told me about; that things might not work out perfectly, and that we may not all live happily ever after.   
  
So, I guess that's what I have to figure out now: what I'm going to do after I'm finished with my wandering. I can't go home and sit by your bedside day in and day out, waiting for you to wake up. Even if I tried, my family wouldn't let me. So now I have to decide just how long is too long...to wait.   
  
And tonight, I have to put on a smile, act like nothing is wrong, and have a pleasant dinner with my brother and his wife at a fancy Paris restaurant. I think I can say fairly confidently that I am not in the mood.  
  
Until next time,   
  
Ginny   
  
**_IMPORTANT Author's Notes:_**  
  
Hey guys! I really appreciate all the reviews and feedback I've been getting, I couldn't have asked for anything more, and I totally didn't expect it when I first started writing the story. Practically everyone that reviews begs for updates as well, and I just want to let you all know that over the next month or so, they're going to be few and far between.  
  
I'm going to be gone A LOT, first on vacation and then I'm following Hanson to four concerts. In the in-between days when I'm actually home, I have school and finals are approaching very quickly. So...I didn't want anyone to think I've abandoned the story, I definitely HAVE NOT. Life is just interfering at the moment. :o) I'm extremely excited about the stuff that's coming up for Ginny, though, so I hope you guys keep checking back for updates and continue reading. Thanks again!  
  
Aimee (LullaBelle :o) 


	11. Letter 8

**_Author's Notes: Holy cow, I can't believe I'm updating. No, I haven't given up on this story; I've just had major writer's block and a little thing called life getting in my way the last couple of months. Any time I sat down to write, I just couldn't get anything out. Truthfully, this chapter wasn't what I intended to write at first, either, but it just sort of came out, eventually. I guess it all works out for the best!_**

**_Also, I just wanted to say a quick thanks to the few people that have reviewed since the last update way back in July. It's nice to know that some people are still reading and checking up on the story!_**

**_I honestly don't know when the next update will come, because the story seems to be shifting gears here for me. What I thought I wanted to happen, I'm suddenly not too sure of. We'll have to wait and see. :o) Thanks for reading; I hope you enjoy! This WILL get finished eventually! _**

**_Aimee _******

* * *

Letter #8

_October 23, 1998_

Harry,

It was an interesting birthday, to say the least. I woke up yesterday morning feeling tired and grumpy due to not getting much sleep the night before; I was awake writing to you, of course. Bill was trying to be a supportive, wonderful older brother by making a huge breakfast for me to enjoy, but honestly, I couldn't taste anything. I felt slightly numb, and I missed you, Ron, Hermione, my mum and dad, and everyone else. Bill is probably the most observant of the Weasley bunch, but I really don't think it took much to notice that I wasn't feeling my best, mentally or physically, yesterday. "What's wrong, Gin? You're legal today!" Bill tried to cheer me up over a strong cup of coffee.

Fleur glanced up from her pumpkin juice and said absently, "My seventeenth birthday was not all that special. I felt 'ze same as I did when I was sixteen." I smiled slightly at Fleur's comment and nodded. "I think I feel something like that as well." I frowned and contemplated for a minute, before adding, "But I definitely don't feel the same as I did when I turned sixteen. A birthday just doesn't seem quite so important now." 

Bill sighed, and I could tell he was wondering whether or not he should say something about my current circumstances. I guess his big brother, over-protective nature got the best of him, though, because he put his fork down and looked at me quite seriously. "Ginny, are you happy? I mean, of course you aren't happy because how could you be, but..." He stopped, trying to find the right words to express what he meant to say.

I looked at him for a moment, suddenly feeling sick; I did not want to be having that conversation with him, or anyone. Even though it's been almost two whole months since I left England, I just wasn't ready to discuss what in the world I was doing. I held up a hand to stop him. "Look, Bill, I...I'm not happy, per say, but I'm not..." I bit my lip, and closed my eyes for a minute before saying quietly, "I'm just trying to figure out what I'm supposed to be doing. And I would really appreciate not getting into it with you, or anyone else for a while." 

Fleur looked at me sympathetically, reaching over and giving my hand a squeeze. "Your bruzzer did not mean anything by it, Gin. Your whole family is just worried about you. They are afraid that you will never come home." She smiled slightly.

I shook my head and looked at Bill. "Is that really what everyone thinks? That I'm not going to come back?" Bill nodded slowly. "Well, yeah, that possibility has been mentioned before. I mean, we can't figure out why you just up and left in the first place. It's not like you, Gin. I guess everyone's just worried that you've...gone a bit crazy?" Bill winced a little at his choice of words, knowing that they were just slightly offensive. I immediately bristled. "Crazy? You all think that I've gone crazy? Just because I left?" I laughed, and I do have to admit, at that moment, maybe I felt a bit crazy. Something seemed to snap inside of me, and I couldn't take it anymore. I felt like I was being smothered, and all it took to set me off was that one word; honestly, I think it was because I had been wondering the same thing myself for a while. "I probably would have gone crazy, sitting in that damned hospital room for another three months, or three years, or a lifetime, if Harry never wakes up! So tell me that leaving was the crazy thing to do again, Bill! I'd love to know that you all prefer me to never leave his side and waste my life waiting for him, and never live again! At least I know that's not what he wanted for me!" 

By this time, I was standing up, clutching my napkin in my hand and trying very hard to fight back tears. I know I looked insane with my eyes bright from unshed tears, and my hair uncombed and messy from just waking up. Bill and Fleur most certainly thought that I was insane, too. At that point, all I could do was burst into tears from humiliation, guilt, homesickness, and about a million other emotions. I quickly ran upstairs to my room, grabbed my wand, which I hadn't used hardly at all since I left England, and locked the door. I knew it was useless, but hoped that Bill and Fleur would at least give me some privacy for a while to compose myself.

I ended up crying myself to sleep, and I didn't wake up until five o'clock in the afternoon. I felt slightly better after being a little more rested, and I took a quick shower, preparing myself for an apology. When I entered the living room, everything was deathly quiet, like they were afraid to set me off again or disturb me. I cleared my throat, making Bill and Fleur look up quickly from their game of chess. Apparently, they hadn't heard me enter the room.

Bill gave me a tentative smile and stood up. "Hey, Gin. Um...did you have a nice nap?" I almost laughed at how nervous he seemed. I realized that I had never actually fought or lost my temper with Bill before, and that's why this seemed so foreign to me; we'd always gotten along the best, probably because of our age difference. There simply wasn't any reason for arguments. I bit my lip and nodded slightly. "Yeah, thanks for letting me sleep." I looked at Fleur so she would know my apology was meant for her as well. "Look, I'm sorry...for going off like that earlier. I'm just...I'm feeling kind of guilty about leaving, and I'm and..." I sighed and sat down heavily on the couch. "I know leaving doesn't make sense to you guys, but honestly, it was, and still is, the only thing I could think of to do. I couldn't stay at home and pretend everything was okay, and live in this false sense of security and happiness. It just didn't work." They were both looking at me attentively, probably glad that I was no longer screaming at them like a mad-woman. "And Harry didn't want me to...to just stay there. He...well, he wrote me this letter..."

I took the letter out of my pocket and handed it to Fleur, smiling slightly at how wrinkled and beat up it had gotten over the course of the last two months. She read it silently, her mouth forming a perfect "O" shape as she finished. She looked up at me, and handed the letter to Bill. "Well, it makes more sense now," she said quietly. "I can see why you left." Bill handed the letter back to me gently after he finished with it, then leaned back in his chair with a sigh. "Wow. That's some pretty heavy stuff, Gin." He rubbed his eyes, and I could tell he was thinking about Percy at that moment. "You're too young to have to go through this kind of thing."

I smiled a little. "I think we're all too young, Bill. And you're not that much older than me. But I can't change anything that's happened, so...I just have to live with it." Needless to say, we didn't go out for our fancy dinner. No one was really up to it after that, and I hadn't wanted to go in the first place. I'm glad, though, that things worked out the way they did. I feel ten times closer to my brother than I ever have before, and I actually think he understands me. I'm comfortable with Fleur now, and I don't think I could ask for a better sister-in-law.

It's strange how many emotions human beings can feel within one day. I went from being grumpy, sad, depressed, guilty, you name it, to somewhat content, playing a vicious game of Wizard's Chess with my older brother. That doesn't mean that France is my home, nor Ireland, Austria, or even England. I don't think, that at this point in my life, with these somewhat extraordinary circumstances, that I'll know where my home is for a very long time. When I find it, I'll make sure to let you know.

All my love,  
Ginny


	12. Letter 9

**_Author's Notes:_**

_Holy cow, guys. I'm actually updating. It feels like it's been forever. (Oh wait, it has...) Anyway, I'm so sorry I've been neglecting the story. I've just been so busy between work and school and having severe writer's block...it's nuts. Recently, my creativity was sparked by a pesky little plot bunny, though, and now I find myself taking the story in a different direction than I originally planned. Who knows what will actually happen because I haven't gotten the whole thing worked out perfectly in my mind, but I think it's going to turn out sort of interesting. I was going to wait to post this chapter until I had the next written, but I figured I'd go ahead and do it tonight. Forgive me; it's boring. I just need to set some things up and get a bunch of information out of the way before having anything actually happen. From here on out I'm hoping things won't be QUITE so boring. :) Thanks to everyone who has reviewed! I love reviews...hehe_

_Aimee_

* * *

Letter 9

_November 8, 1998_

Harry,

I'm so sorry that it's been over two weeks since my last letter. Surprisingly, I've  
actually been rather busy. My brother and Fleur have taken me sightseeing, I've found a job, and started studying...but wait, I'll slow down and try to start slowly.

I've gotten to see all of Paris, and it is an amazing city, so romantic and cultured. Bill and Fleur took me sightseeing for a few days so I could see all of the most famous spots. We went to the very top of the Eiffel Tower, which was such an incredible view. (As well as a little bit nerve-wracking; I've decided I'm not very fond of heights.) You can see practically the whole city from way up there and everything looks so far away and removed. After that, we had lunch at a fancy restaurant and to be honest, I'm still not quite sure what I ate. I couldn't understand anything from the menu, so Fleur ordered for me. She insisted I would love the meal, which I did, but something tells me it was a dish that I normally would most definitely not eat. I don't think it was snails or anything disgusting like that, but I guess I can't be too sure. She did look rather smug after I finished the entire plate...

Anyway, they also took me to the village of Montmarte, the center of the Bohemian Revolution back in the early 1900's, which was very interesting. We took a guided tour and heard all sorts of stories about the area. My favorites were of the Bohemian painter Toulouse Lautrec, who was quite a character, and a frequent guest at the famous night-club and dance hall, the Moulin Rouge. He was a dwarf, and must have had a very hard life considering the time he lived in. He was, also, from what I've gathered, very addicted to the drink Absinthe, the drug of choice in the early 20th century, for Wizards and Muggles alike. We visited the Moulin Rouge that night and saw a show there; the costumes were like nothing I've ever seen, full of diamonds, feathers, and made from the most beautiful silk materials. It was surprisingly entertaining and elegant.

The next day we all went shopping, at Fleur's insistence. They would have bought me whatever I wanted, had I asked, and I still feel I got too much. A few shirts, some nice dress pants that I'll probably never wear, and a beautiful, silky green dress that compliments my hair perfectly, according to Fleur. I have to admit, I do feel rather glamorous in it and not like myself at all. Or maybe, on second thought, I'm turning into a new, more grown-up me and that dress is proof? I don't know, although I suppose I'll have to think more on that subject later. They also bought me some plainer (but still more expensive than I'm used to) robes for every day occasions.

Bill also decided the other morning at breakfast, after viewing Hermione's birthday gifts for me, that it would be a wonderful idea if I started my seventh year studies while I'm staying with them. Hermione already sent me her history of magic and arithmancy texts, so I was set for those classes. Bill came home from work the next day with brand new potions and transfiguration textbooks and a whole week's worth of lesson plans drawn up for me. I'm now a week and a half into Bill's plan, and I do have to admit, it's going rather well. I'm mostly doing the work on my own, asking Fleur and Bill for help when I need it, and taking tests and completing homework assignments and essays Bill makes up. I think I like moving at my own pace a lot more than actually studying with a class, and maybe at this rate, I won't even have to go back to school to pass my N.E.W.T.'s. As you know, I'm well ahead of most seventh years in Defense, thanks to the DA. You were a very good teacher, Harry.

Speaking of the DA, Bill was so proud and impressed when I told him all about it. Of course, he knew of it's existence after Umbridge left and it became an official club at Hogwarts, but he didn't know the extent to which we studied. He's so proud of Ron's involvement, as well as my own, and he thought my coming up with the name "Dumbledore's Army" was just brilliant. He has so much respect for you, too, Harry, that it makes me proud of you all over again. I think he gained newfound respect for Hermione, as well; he about keeled over with laughter at the Marietta Hedgecomb story and the image of her with "SNEAK" written across her face. I still feel a little bit sorry for the poor, girl, though; last I heard, she still has a faint scar.

Not only have I been busy with school, but I also found a job. It's not really an incredibly hard job, or one that requires any skill what-so-ever, but I'm making money, so it's more than sufficient. I'm running errands, cleaning house, and basically keeping Bill and Fleur's elderly neighbor company. Mrs. Leveau is probably at least one hundred fifty years old and the poor dear is just not in very good shape. Her mind is quicker than ever, but it seems like her body is just quitting on her. I go to the market, fix her supper, clean her house when it needs it, and most of the time, just sit and talk with her. She tells wonderful stories about growing up in the Southern United States on the Louisiana bayou and loves having someone listen. Mrs. Leveau had four children, but lost all of them in the war. She has a few grandchildren, but it seems like they're scattered all over the world and rarely come to see her. I think I've talked her into spending Christmas with us so she won't be quite so lonely.

Speaking of Christmas...I've decided to stay in France for the holidays. Bill and Fleur aren't going to England this year since they spent last Christmas with our family. I'm not sure what the real plans are, but I'm glad I'm at least going to be with one brother this Christmas. I'm sure mum and dad will have an absolute fit that I'm not coming home, but what can I do? I just don't think I'm ready.

I do have this growing feeling inside of me, though, that something is changing. Something is about to happen to me, to make my life turn upside down all over again. Except this time, I'm not afraid of this feeling...it feels like it could actually be something good that's going to happen. I don't think it involves you waking up, unfortunately, but perhaps figuring out the next place I'm going to go once I do decide to leave Paris. Perhaps Rome? I don't know right now, but I know that when the time comes, I'll know exactly what to do.

I'm sorry this letter was so boring...since I hadn't written in so long, I thought I should probably just update you on everything that's been going on. I swear I'll have something _much_ more interesting to tell you next time. I'll try to remember one of Mrs. Leveau's funny stories. Goodbye, Harry.

Love,

Ginny


End file.
